the French have an unusual dread of much air, and would rather almost suffocate themselves by inhaling again and again their own corrupt atmosphere than admit the pure air, which is so essential to life, much more to health. We put up at the Hôtel de Milan, which, though not good, answered our purpose for the time. Our usual plan was to dine at the table d'hôte of the inn. Here we saw a variety of characters-the young, the coxcomb, the unexperienced, the cautious, the selfish, the soldier, the man of business, and the man of pleasureeach busy after his own manner-sensible or insipid, filthy or the contrary, pretending or the direct opposite. The most useful seemed to be to us the man of business, and one whose peculiarities interfered the least with the moral observances of our nature; he satisfied his wants with as little loss of time as possible, and away instantly to his vocation. The military man, with his paraphernalia of orders, we observed, always conducted his expenditure with economy, and with an indication that he expected attention from the domestics; whenever he sounded his wants, it was always in the form of a command and with a demonstration of consequence."

"Athenæum, January 5th, 1836.

"I write again to-day, contrary to my intention, for the purpose of acknowledging your letter, and saying, that I shall be happy to receive dear Mary on Thursday. I have just

returned from hearing old Mr. Wilkinson in the City. I think he must be above eighty-quite clear and distinct. A beautiful old church, thronged to fulness. I could only just get in and stand by the door. I was not in time for his text; I think it was on regeneration. The first words I heard from him were, 'Remember that the day of death is, in effect, the day of judgment.' He then said that there were three joyous periods in the history of the believer. The first was the day of conversion, when the finger of God, by his Holy Spirit, writes on the heart the comfortable assurance, Thy sins are forgiven thee by the redeeming blood of thy Saviour Jesus Christ.' Under such circumstances, the next joyous day is the day of our death, when all the miseries our mortal flesh is heir to will terminate; and then comes the third period of our joy, namely, our ascension into heaven. This gentleman has the most striking countenance you ever saw. What a beautiful picture might be made of him, and of the marvellous variety of strange, care-worn faces, by which his pulpit is surrounded! I mean this evening to hear Mr. E. This will be a good way of spending the evening of my birth. It is a long time ago, and when I see what has happened during the last year, it is not unlikely that I may never see another."

The letters of sir William Knighton, about this time, were frequently filled with account of the sermons he heard, and of particular sentiments in them which had arrested his

attention. Towards the close of his life, those views of religion which he had gradually embraced became much clearer, and he rested upon them with more cordial acquiescence. Impressed with a deep sense of his own unworthiness, he appeared to be dying daily to the hopes and consolations of this world, and earnest in seeking those things which are above. He had been honoured with the friendship of princes and the favour of royalty. These high and flattering distinctions he gratefully acknowledged, but had now learned to estimate them at their true value, for he could contrast them with the far higher honour which cometh from God only, and the infinite blessedness arising from communion with Christ, the King of kings and Lord of lords. He had investigated the truths of Christianity with all the powers of a strong mind, but, with simple dependence upon that scriptural promise, the fulfilment of which he experienced: "Ask, and ye shall receive; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you;"-your heavenly Father will "give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him."

He had for a long time suffered under symptoms of diseased heart, and much embarrassment in respiration, and was fully aware of the hopeless nature of his illness. He said to a kind relative who was frequently at his bedside, "I do not know what my medical friends think of me; but they need not fear to tell me their opinion. I have not left it to this hour to make

my peace with God."-" When I was a young man," he added, "I knew God; but I departed from him, and he has brought me back to himself again." Speaking of prayer, he said, "I pray to God for the pardon of my sins, and that he will give me his Holy Spirit for the sake of Jesus Christ. I pray that my conversion may be a sincere one, and that all my thoughts may be purified in the blood of Christ." A friend, who visited him, prayed, "that if it were the Lord's will, he might be raised up from his bed of sickness to glorify God; but if not, that God would give him a sense of sin, and of peace and joy in his Saviour, and that, at last, he would receive his spirit to himself." said, "That is my mind and desire exactly." Prayer and meditation on the expiatory sacrifice and justifying righteousness of Christ seemed to alleviate his sufferings; in speaking of which, on one occasion, to his physician, he observed," See what sin has brought into the world!"

He

He expressed a firm conviction that Christ was sustaining him, and requested, even on the night preceding his death, that his family might be assembled as usual to unite with him in family prayer, and in seeking that Divine support which his circumstances required. On this last occasion, he took an affectionate and solemn farewell of them, and soon after sank into a tranquil sleep, which, at about half-past two on the following morning, was exchanged, without the slightest apparent suffering, for the

sleep of death, his spirit having fled to God his Saviour. Sir William died on the 11th of October, 1836.

JAMES HOPE, M.D.

DR. HOPE was the son of Thomas Hope, esq., of Prestbury Hall, Cheshire. He was born Feb. 23, 1801, and was the tenth child of a family of twelve. It is remarkable that he felt in early life an apparently almost invincible aversion to that profession in which, at a comparatively early period, he rapidly attained such distinction, and for which his naturally close and reflecting intellectual habits so well qualified him. It was his father's wish that he should be a merchant; his own to attain eminence at the bar. At length, after a period of much uncertainty, he yielded to the persuasion of a leading physician at Manchester, to make trial of the practice of physic, upon one condition only, that he should be allowed to practise in London-a wish prompted by a secret consciousness of his talents, and by that proud ambition which, till overruled by higher and better principles, seems to have been the master-spring of all his conduct, leading him to scorn success in every field except where he should have to compete with talent of the highest order.

He commenced his medical studies at Edin